


A Walk in the Park

by Occasionalcoffeethereturn



Category: The X-Files RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-25 12:27:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6195088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Occasionalcoffeethereturn/pseuds/Occasionalcoffeethereturn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David and Gillian decide to try something new.</p><p> </p><p>This is our first collaboration. We hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely fiction based on real people.

He watched her through his balcony doors looking out over the park.  It was early and the sun caused the reservoir to twinkle, the stone and mirrored buildings glinting in the distance.  It was going to be a beautiful day.  He clicked the sliding door and she turned sideways to face him, flipping her sunglasses over her eyes and smiling.  He offered her a mug of coffee and she sat with him at the small table.

'"Beautiful," he murmured, his eyes on her, hers on the cityscape before them.

'"New York.  She's like nowhere else on earth."

"I wasn't talking about her."

A glow spread up her cheeks and she bit down on her bottom lip, eyeing him shyly.

"What?  I'm allowed to say that."

She sipped at her coffee, her face hidden by her oversized sunglasses and the mug.  "You are.  I'm just not used to it."

"I'm glad you agree.  I think you still need convincing."

"Maybe."

She stretched out her slender legs in front of her, oversized sweat pants bagging over them.  She shivered slightly, the sun not quite reaching the sheltered part of his balcony, her shoulders cold in just her camisole.  He had to keep his eyes from roaming over her breasts, her nipples hardening to perfect circles.

She caught him looking.

"There was I thinking you meant my face."

"I meant your face.  Both of them."

She giggled as she teased him, and he always countered back.  She'd never get tired of the banter between them.  She looked at him then, really looked at him.  The crinkles around his eyes, the small dimple in his chin.  That mole.  The fierce angle of his jaw.  Flecks of silver in the edges of his hair and flecks of green in his hazel eyes.  He was so beautiful he made her ache.

He was watching her watching him and he had to squint to see her.  His hand reached across the table, fingers grazing hers which grasped her coffee mug.

"Sweetheart?"

She looked confused and realised he must have asked her something.

"Sorry.  I got distracted."

He exhaled through his nostrils and smiled at her.  "So I gather."

She placed her hand on his thigh and he rested his on top of hers, her fingers spreading to allow their digits to mingle.

"Tell me what you asked me, sorry."

He shrugged his shoulders slightly, debating whether or not to actually ask her, worried about her answer, her reaction, worried about what it would all mean, but at the same time tired of all the worrying.  Such a constant state of second guessing did not make for a relaxing life.  And he was fed up of being so tightly wound. He held her hand tightly to his thigh and found her eyes through the lenses of her sunglasses.

"I um... I asked if you wanted to go for a walk with me.  Today."

She met his eyes, her lips moving but no sound emerging.  To anyone else it would have been such a simple question but with them it was loaded with so many undercurrents and layers.  They'd be going out together, in the middle of the day, in full sunshine, in public.  And she wasn't the only one unsure that they'd be able to keep their hands off each other.  

She knew David though and this wasn't some whimsical, impulsive decision.  He would have been thinking this over, making sure the timing was right for both of them, thinking through all of the possibilities and weighing up the pros and cons.

She felt the beginnings of a tear grow in her eye.  "I'd really like that."

He simply held her hand tighter.  This could either be just a walk in the park, or a gauntlet run through hell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They take a walk in the park.

She took longer to get ready than normal.  Several outfits were strewn over the bed and various cosmetics littered over the vanity.  Some strange set of nerves, he guessed, must have kicked in. He'd never seen her fix her makeup or straighten her hair with the flat iron she kept under the counter in his ensuite bathroom, unless she was doing press. But today she did. He decided to give her space to do what she needed to do.

When she was ready she slipped on her wedges and waited for him by his front door while he scrambled about, grabbing his wallet, two bottles of water and both sets, his and her sunglasses.  It had been a long time since he'd taken pairs of everything out with him.

'You'll be needing these,' he said as he handed them to her like they would change her appearance from a famous actress into a regular Jane Doe. She just nodded, set them upon her face and hoped for the best, what exactly that was, she wasn't sure.

The sun stung her pupils as if she hadn't seen the light of day in months. But then again, being tangled in bed for a weekend could do that to a woman. She shielded the frame of her sunglasses with her palm as David steered her across the street by walking a pace ahead of her. 

She knew by the slightly awkward sway in his arms, the large space between each of his steps, and how he kept his face parellel with the asphalt that he was feeling the same way she was. Nervous as hell. She would have  called him out on it if she wasn't taking the whole thing just as seriously. It wouldn't be fair of her to make light of anything he was feeling now. He was trying. She knew he was trying this for her.

He noticed once he was in the middle of the street that she wasn't by his side and paused to guide her beside him with an outstretched arm. She fell into his quick pace as they crossed over.

Both were silent until they reached the park perimeter. Something about entering the boundary into the park was sedating in comparison to the vicious city traffic. They both took cleansing breaths and stopped walking for a moment as if to regroup after completing their first mission.

David smiled down at her. The calm in his upturned lips made her reciprocate. "You okay?" he asked.

A small laugh escaped. The whole of it was funny, she admitted to herself. It was a fucking walk in the park! If they couldn't do this, what good were they to each other? She answered that easily in her head.  Sex. That's one thing they'd always be good at. Maybe the only thing, she considered.

"I'm okay. Are you?" she asked him, wishing she could see past his sunglasses lenses. She never realized before how much those eyes soothed her. 

He rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I am." He looked toward a path winding into the park and pointed toward it. "Let's walk that way?" 

"Sounds good," she said just as they started on a more comfortable pace. 

The loose gravel crunched under their shoes and seemed to speak for them as they kept up a drawn out silence. All of the questions pacing in the front of her mind like fish just under the water's surface, one eventually fading to the next. She waited for the right time, the right one to ask him, not wanting to ruin whatever it was they were experiencing here. Not wanting to waste her cast and scare them all away.

"David," she started, having caught a question, spitting out her words before it could slither away. "What if someone recognizes us?"

There was only one answer she hoped for.

"Well, friends go out. If we're such good friends we should go out in public, right? It'd actually be advantageous to our story, don't you think?"

His answer would have disappointed her had she not expected it, but she had. 

"Yeah, it would."

"Don't worry, babe."

As they moved below huge maple trees, their leaves a rusty red, cooling their hair where the sun had just been, more words she wanted to say itched her throat. She wanted to tell him that maybe she wasn't worried. Maybe she was ready. And she'd hoped that this venture was him feeling the same. 

But she didn't say anything.

Without having a chance to register what was happening there was a quick swipe at her right hip and the hiss of wind against wheels. Something heavy knocked into her, hard, spinning her toward David. Pain shot down her leg and up her ribs from her side and she turned into him with outstretched arms, his hands catching her and pulling her close.  

"Ow! Shit!" Gillian screamed out as she looked toward what hit her. 

A bicyclist, jarred, swiveled around to apologize. "Oh god, I'm so sorry, " the teenager said, holding a cellphone in his hand instead of the handlebar that hit her.

She dismissed him with a nod and a pointed glare and he continued on, no helmet, full throttle speed and without a care in the world.

"For fuck sake," David said as he looked her over. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, probably just gonna be a nice bruise. Is it really necessary to have a phone in your hand while you ride a goddamned bike?!" she asked.

"Well you know, Twitter never sleeps. Or stops to bike ride in this case," he joked. 

She appreciated the attempt to humour her. It was also when she realised that he was now holding her close to him, her hands resting on his forearms as his hands rubbed up and down her back soothingly.  It had been entirely unconscious on his part, his protectiveness over her making him forget where he was.  A small crowd of people had gathered to watch them and she stepped back from him slowly, keen that he didn't panic as she did.

Sadly it was too late as she saw the unmistakable motions of phones in front of faces and thumbs clicking buttons.  Shit.  She risked a glance at him but his gaze was unwavering, his jaw set.  She couldn't read him and honestly had no idea what he'd do next.  The crowd dispersed as suddenly as they'd seemed to appear and they carried on walking with a silence looming over them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David realizes he needs to make a change.

They'd stayed in silence for most of the rest of their walk, him occasionally pointing out where he and the kids played catch, the best ice cream vendor, the fountain that switched off in winter because it was too cold. Small talk, something which had never been like them. She was quiet, brooding over both her injury and concern about which pictures of them together would be no doubt be splashed online later that night. 

As they re-entered his apartment both of them had leapt onto their phones, somewhat relieved to not find voice messages from their managers and requests for official statements. 

She'd immersed herself in pouring over her lines for streetcar, managing to choke down only coffee and picking at the chicken salad he'd made her for lunch. 

He was writing, or at least that was what he was pretending to do. At one point she'd glanced over at him and caught sight of his laptop screen, the bright red of advertisements and entertainment gossip pages gleaming back at him. 

She'd put her script down on the table, walked over to his desk and put her hands on his shoulders. His hands joined on top of hers quickly and he lent his head against her belly and tipped it back, face to the ceiling and she placed a kiss over his lips. 

"We knew this might happen." 

"Yeah." 

"They have no right though." 

"I know. It's the way of the world David, people see it as their right." 

That was all either of them had said on the matter. 

Two hours later he emerged from a second shower, freshly changed into his dark jeans, shirt and those Converse he insisted on wearing. She suspected it was so he could hang onto at least some element of youth.

She looked up from the notes she was making at his table as he came up behind her, and dropped a kiss into her hair, nuzzling her with his nose. 

He mumbled against her. "Babe I have to head out to a meeting." 

"A meeting? Dinner meeting?" 

"Yeah. Not a long one, just last minute tour stuff." His arms wrapped around her waist, careful not to hurt her and he placed open, wet kisses down her neck, her skin tingling with each pass of his lips. 

"I gotta go I'm late." 

"Okay..." she started, but didn't have time to ask him anymore details. He placed one last kiss in her hair, told her he loved her and he was gone. She sat, unblinking as she stared at the front door he'd just closed behind him. It was then that she felt the first wave of nausea roll upwards from her stomach and an old, familiar fluttery feeling of panic in her chest. For the first time in years she knew he'd just lied to her and she had no idea why.

 

++++

 

They had decided to meet at a little Italian place on neutral ground halfway between their respective apartments. She hadn't questioned why he needed to talk to her so urgently and for that he was grateful. 

He knew this was walking on dangerous ground with Gillian. She definitely would not understand his need to do what he was about to and he was sure she'd felt him lie, his words slicing through his apartment before his abrupt departure. He couldn't even look at her and he hated himself for it. 

He needed to buy himself some time to think, something he knew he did all too often. He was too cerebral sometimes, going over outcomes of possible scenarios, the what ifs and maybes. He knew it was futile but he still couldn't help himself. 

The restaurant's host seated him at a small table in the back corner next to a large fireplace. He remembered sitting at the same table with Gillian after the Paley event. It was so new then, but much easier. The unknowns weren't weighing heavily on them that night as he sat across from her, memorizing the smoothness of her palms with his fingertips, knowing that all that was on both of their minds was going back to the hotel and fucking until sun rise. 

He snapped back to reality when he realized a woman was standing over his table. 

Tèa was looking down on him without hiding an ounce of pity. "What happened?" 

He'd never felt smaller than he felt in that moment. Realizing that he was still stuck in the same rut he's always been in, running to his past as if it could help him save his future. 

"Tèa, I think I'm going to lose her," he started as she sat across from him. They both knew it was going to be a long night. 

When all of the diners had left, they decided it was probably their time, too. Five glasses of whiskey and a clearer understanding of what his fatal flaws had always been thanks to his ex wife's patience and brutal honesty, he wanted so badly to get back to Gillian. He would have run home if it wouldn't have drawn yet more unwanted attention to him. 

"Good luck," Tèa said to him outside the restaurant doors as he waited with her for her car to arrive. 

"Thank you." 

They embraced, David's hand grasping her head for only a second before they let each other go back to their separate lives. He saw that she safely got into the black sedan and watched as it drove off. What he didn't see though, was nestled through the fence across the road was a camera with a long lens pointed his way and a fresh roll of photos.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both decide they know what they want.

Almost four hours after David had left, Gillian tried to do everything she could to keep her mind off him. It was impossible to concentrate on Streetcar, work on writing or even enjoy a movie. She found herself checking her phone incessantly, considering maybe her ringtone might have failed her and she missed a notification. But there was always nothing staring back at her. 

She paced his apartment, realizing it was the first time she'd been left alone there. She looked it over closer than she ever had, hoping for some kind of indication as to where he was, why he'd lied or even more confusing to her, what exactly she was doing there, what she was doing in his life. She came up empty. 

He had books littering almost every shelf and table, sheet music amongst them, reusable water bottles, CDs, BluRays, plants alive and some not fairing so well. But nothing to give him away. He kept his cards close to his chest.

When her body began to ache from both her injury and exhaustion, she decided to give in. She rubbed her temples, willing her brain to stop the torture it had been relentlessly inflicting on her all night. 

"Shut up," she whispered to herself, feeling silly at first, and then feeling the anger take her over, commanding her attention. 

She stripped her clothes off and left them in a trail from the living room ending with her red thong at the foot of his bed. She walked to the mirror on his closet door and looked at herself.

Tears blurred her vision as she imagined him walking in on her at any moment. "This is not love, David!" She yelled as if he were there. Tears spilled down her face and landed on her breasts, her eyes too clouded to see, she could only feel their cold wetness there. "You never fucking loved me and it's not even your fault! I'm a fucking mess! I always was. I always will be. Oh and I'm just your fuck buddy, right?! I always was!" Her sobs coming on violently. "And! I! Always! Will! Be!" Her words all escaping in a high-pitched scream. 

She made her way toward his bed, turned down the covers and crawled inside. She reached over to turn off the light on his bedside table and wiped all of her tears with her hand, she needed to be presentable and ready to perform. After all, that's what fuck buddies did.

 

++++

 

He took a deep breath as he wobbled on his feet, leaning on the door frame for support.  He clumsily fitted the key into the lock and turned, inhaling several deep breaths trying to sober himself up.  Tea could really take her whisky, but these days with his cleaner living he wasn't half as good at it.  He quickly downed two glasses of water, splashed some on his face and made his way through the living room.

He smiled to himself as he saw her dress draped neatly over the sofa, two earrings on the coffee table and a bra in the hallway leading to his bedroom.  On his side of the bed lay her red thong and he felt himself harden as he thumbed over the lacy material.

He found her in his bed, her body turned away from the door towards the windows, laying on her side.  She was quiet, her breath sounds peaceful as they filled his room.

He stripped off and climbed into bed next to her, his arms slipping around the curve of her hip and waist, resting just underneath her breasts.  Finding her naked in his bed was one hell of a gift to come home to, one he wasn't sure he actually deserved.

He felt her tense initially as he wrapped himself around her, his stubble lightly scratching her cheek, his legs outlining hers and his lips kissing behind her ear.  

'Baby I've missed you.'

He felt her exhale slowly and her arms covered his, holding him against her before she rolled over onto her back.  The quicker they did this the quicker she could get dressed and leave.  She needed to get this over with before she changed her mind.

His lips covered hers, brushing back and forth over them as one hand cupped her face and his fingers tangled in her hair.  She could have really done without him kissing her like this and she felt twinges of pain building in her chest.  She was screaming inside for him to stop, wishing she could just disappear to grains of sand in his arms and never return.

He pulled back to look at her, her eyes shining back at him in the midnight darkness.  They were wet at the edges, a cold steely blue rather than the ocean depth sparkle he was used to.

'I love you,' he whispered.

She bit her lip before answering him, her voice constricting in her throat and her mouth dry.

'I love you too.'

Her voice was scratchy, raspy, raw and broken like she felt inside but her were words so sincere.  Never had she meant them as much as she did tonight, knowing that this would be the last time she'd feel his body over hers, their last kisses, the last time she could pretend and call him hers.  He never was hers, he never had been, he never would be.  He'd lied to her, he was ashamed of her, and they'd never be more than a bad secret to hide, at least to him.

The threads holding together her facade were weakening by the second as the hurt she was feeling threatened to break her apart.  She only had to hold on for a few more minutes but she was wondering whether or not she could do this.  If she let him invade her even further, if she let him inside her, would she ever be able to leave?

She tried to relax her head back into the pillows as she felt his lips travel over her body, pausing on her breasts to tease her nipples as his fingers trailed down her belly to part her thighs.  She was dry, parched and she felt him flinch in surprise as he didn't find her wetness there waiting for him.  He persevered, dipping a finger inside her and trying to coax her into being ready.  Her body responded, it was impossible for her not to with him and she started to feel dampness mount between her legs.

His brow was furrowed in confusion as he continued to kiss down her body.  Normally she was much more responsive than this to his touch and he worried he was doing something wrong.  Had the whisky been too much?  Was she in pain from her earlier accident?  Should he just leave her to sleep and make love to her in the morning?  Or was it that she knew he'd lied to her but couldn't bare to ask him why? 

His tongue closed over her clit placing firm strokes there and she gasped involuntarily, her body betraying her mind with it's arousal. All she had to do was lay back and take it, if she could just come then she could finish him off with her mouth. She felt herself moisten, the tingles and throbs in all the right places but she was wishing for it too hard and too eager to finish. He had reluctantly pulled his mouth away, leaning his cheek against her thigh as his fingers probed her entrance.

"Relax baby, let it happen." 

"Sorry. Honestly babe I just don't think it will for me tonight."

She hated to admit it, but maybe it was easier to put him off than lay there wishing hard for an orgasm to wash over her when it wouldn't happen. He moved to join her, his head next to hers on the pillow.

"Did I do something wrong?"

She shook her head no, but refused to meet his eyes even in the dark, knowing that if she did she would fall apart completely. So she did to him what he'd done to her earlier. She lied. 

"I'm a bit sore and bruised. I'm tired. My brain is so full of words and lines I cant seem to get it to shut down. I'm sorry babe."

He shrugged and pulled her tightly into his arms so her head was resting on his chest. She relied on her best acting skills to be able to meet his eyes this time, as her hand trailed through the wirey salt and pepper hair of his chest, over his abdomen and closed around his hardness.

"That doesn't mean I can't... Return the favour."

He smiled to himself as she disappeared under the covers, grasping at the sheets either side of him as her perfect mouth covered his cock, sucking gently on his engorged head. Her fingers stroked over the rough skin of his balls and he jerked his hips against her, her throat widening and deepening to take all of him in. 

"Fuck Gillian."

She used all her tricks in her fellatio armory, hollowing out her cheeks to suck on him firmly as her hand worked up and down his shaft in a fast paced rhythm. It was just the way he liked it, she knew it reminded him of their younger days between takes behind speakers on a sound stage and she knew it was a huge turn on for him. Nowadays she struggled with an aching jaw and a sensitive gag, but persevered and eventually he spilled himself inside her mouth, the salty liquid leaving a bitter taste there. She swallowed hard, twice to stop the nausea then moved up the bed, giving him her best adulteress smile.

His fingers stroked her blonde strands of hair gently and he pulled her lips to his to kiss them, tasting himself there. She looked into his eyes, love shining forward from them as she rubbed her hands over his chest, her palm resting over where his heart was. She knew that she'd given him hers and it was inside there too. She'd never be able to retrieve it back.

With five shots of whisky under his belt and a powerful orgasm his eyelids were fluttering closed. He was soon sleeping and she moved to kiss him on the forehead, stroking the outline of his face one last time in a silent goodbye. She dressed quickly, gathering her thong, bra, and dress and stole an old sweater of his from the family bathroom. She'd gathered together earlier what possessions of hers she could, her iPad, scripts and money. She left his keys which had been hers on his coffee table next to her earrings and tiptoed towards the front door, opening it just wide enough for her to escape and closing it with a quiet click.

She breathed a sigh of relief, relaxed and leaned against the wall next to the door, silent sobs wracking through her as her body sunk to the floor and she buried her head against her bent knees. It was over between them, and it was time for her to go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David wakes up alone.

He knew something was wrong before he even opened his eyes. He was cold. The familiar heat of her skin warming his, the weight of her limbs of resting atop his body like she was shielding him from exposure, the tickle of her hair on his face, it was all missing. He opened his eyes and let his arm sweep across her side of the bed at once. Nothing. He was alone.

He sat up and rubbed the throbbing pain at his forehead, only then remembering the night before. He pushed the sheets aside and went to grab a fresh pair of boxers. As he pulled them on he listened for sounds of her in the kitchen, but he knew it was in vain.  He was worried, and she was gone.

His phone was buzzing on the night stand and he reached for it to swipe at it blindly, not bothering to see who it was.

"You're a fucking paparazzi magnet David."

No hello, no greeting, just his ex wife yelling.  This was something he definitely hadn't missed.  She'd gone from feeling sorry for him to mad in the space of a mere few hours.

"What are you talking about?"

"Do yourself a favour David, just go look online."

"It's too late Tea. She's gone."

He hung up without bothering to say goodbye, knowing she'd understand the seriousness of his situation.  He had to find her. He needed to be the one to tell her that their photos were out there now.

The sunlight that was filtering it's way into his apartment made his headache stronger. He pulled the curtains closed and sat on the edge of the overstuffed chair in his kitchen. He rested his forehead against his palm and scrolled through his phone for her name. It rang three times before she answered. He hadn't expected her voice to sound so haggard and worn, yet he didn't expect her to be happy to hear from him either. He didn't know what to expect.  At least she had answered his call.

"Where are you, babe?" His voice was all concern as he sat up straight and ruffled his fingers through his hair.

"David. I'm at my hotel," she said as if she couldn't have been any other place.  He imagined her rolling her eyes at him.

"Why'd you leave? Why'd you leave me? What is going on Gillian?" his voice cracked as the weight of the situation dawned upon him.  He hadn't cried in a very long time but he felt tears burn the back of his eyes now.

"I think I should be the one asking you what's going on David. I take it you don't know about the photos?"

"I know about the photos. It's okay, babe. We'll make a statement, we can figure it out.  We'll even come out as a couple if that's what you'd like?"

"What the fuck are you talking about David?! There are photos of you and Tèa! Your 'meeting' last night? Your 'tour meeting'?"

His chest constricted into his throat when the reality of what happened dawned on him, a tear squeezing itself out from the corner of his eye.  His thoughts hit him full throttle, all of them regretful.  He should have told her where he was going, he should have been honest with her, he should have talked to her.  And now he'd lost her.

"Sweetheart you have to let me explain I..."

"Explain what exactly? That you're a fucking liar? A cheat? A fucking cheating liar?  Whatever this was we had David, it's over. We're finished."

"Gillian I..."

He stopped, realising she'd hung up on him, the deathly silence at the end of his phone filled the room. It was then he noticed the metallic objects left on his coffee table. He went over to them, gravity working against his head like an achor. It was his spare set of keys and pair of earrings he'd given her last Valentine's Day. A wave of nausea crashed over him and he bolted quickly, emptying the contents of his stomach into the kitchen sink. 

+++

Her hand trembled as she pressed the red circular button ending their call.  She had no more tears left to cry and her face stung where the salty drops had cascaded last night.  Her chest ached, her nose throbbed and she felt overwhelmingly nauseous.

She didn't really believe that he had cheated on her with Tea, she was throwing accusations at him just to spite him, to hurt him because she was hurting.  From what she'd seen and heard Tea and Tim were incredibly happy together and there were rumours around that it wouldn't be long before they got married.  Despite what the headlines had said, the photographs looked innocent enough, a simple embrace outside a restaurant at a late hour before they'd gone their separate ways.  Was it a small consolation he'd come home to her?  She pushed the thought to the back of her mind.

What hurt the most is that he must have gone to meet Tea to talk, something which he clearly felt like he couldn't do with her.  They'd spent so much time yesterday in quiet silence and he'd had ample opportunities to talk things through with her but had chosen not to.  Instead he'd run back to what he knew, what was familiar.  It was just another wound in her heart, another sign that all she was good for was a good fuck without the emotional attachment.

She let her phone drop to the bed and heard it vibrate.  A single lined text message glowed green back at her.  It was from him, of course it was from him, more hollow lies and empty promises no doubt.

"I love you so much.  Please let me explain."

She sighed, her head rolling towards the ceiling, the bones in her spine cracking in fatigue.  She needed to stop thinking about him, as impossible as that might be.  It was press night for her play, and the irony that she was as emotionally charged as Blanche right now wasn't lost on her.  She had to concentrate on her lines, tidy up the edges, perfect the small things.

She typed back a message to him, then held down the button to turn off her phone.

"I can't do this right now.  Please, I need some space."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What David figured out...

He'd never been more proud of her in all the years he'd known her.  She literally poured her heart and soul into the performance, unraveling and spiraling out of control in front of the audience, leading them to share her pain, her sorrow, her loss. 

His heart ached for her as Blanche, but it too ached for them.  His challenge now was to convince her he was worth the pain, the grief, the upset and that he could be the man she deserved him to be.

He had lucked out tonight, the assistants guarding the backstage area recognised him as Mulder and he'd politely asked if he could see Gillian for a moment to congratulate her on her performance.  He'd used a fair bit of charm convincing them that she was expecting him and they'd believed him, letting him through and giving him directions to her dressing room.

He knocked gingerly on the door and heard her yell 'It's open!' before he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

It was him.  She knew it without even looking, having sensed his presence in the room.  Her eyes met his in the mirror of her dressing table as she wiped the streaks of make up from her face, abandoning Blanche to transform back into Gillian. To give him credit, he had done as she had asked, given her space and allowed her to perform to a level she was at least marginally satisfied with.

'You saw the play then?'

'Wouldn't have missed it.  Gillian you were outstanding I... I have no words to tell you how proud I am of you.'

She exhaled a laugh, shaking her head and throwing another wet wipe onto the growing used pile stained with old mascara and lipstick, and began to work moisturiser onto her skin.

He perched on the sofa behind her dressing table, his mouth dry and his palms sweaty.  He'd been rehearsing all afternoon what he was going to say to her and now his brain was failing him, his thoughts just jumbled up strings of words. He took a deep breath and composed himself but she interrupted him.

'You have about five minutes before I'm due out there for press and interviews.'

'I'm sorry.'

She closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest.  As opening lines went it was as vacuous as she was expecting from him.  She forced herself to meet his eyes, plucking her mascara out from the collection of make up in front of her.

'For what exactly?'

'I lied to you.  I know that's unforgivable and I'm sorry.'

'David...'

'There's nothing going on, with me and Tèa.'

She dropped her make up and whirled around to face him, anger etched across her face.

'You think I'm angry because of the pictures?  I know there's nothing going on with you two because I know SHE has far more sense than that!  And a boyfriend who actually loves her!'

'I do love you!'

She spun around seething and shakily applied mascara to her eyes.  Who cares what she looked like for press night, she'd spent three hours looking a wreck what was a little longer.  She did the best she could, glancing up to see him still sitting there.  She waited. If he had something to say she'd hear it, but she was certain nothing would change her mind that things were over between them, as painful as that was to admit. 

He was quiet, that uncertain mumbling he did when he was thinking and she rolled her eyes as he droned on behind her.

'I've loved you for twenty years, Gillian. These last few hours without you have been hell for me and I never want to have to go through that again. 

She met his eyes, her top sets of lashes outlined in black and threw her mascara down, exchanging it for concealer.  Underneath her eyes were horrid bruised black circles, no thanks to him and what he'd put her through.  But angry as she was she couldn't ignore the surge she felt in her heart as he told her how much he was in love with her.  He watched her raise her eyebrows at him and carried on.

'I needed someone to talk to...'

'So you went running back to her?  You ran to her instead of me.  Your ex wife, not your... well whatever the fuck I was David.  I don't even know what I was to you anymore.  

'I needed to think about things with someone else... I...'

'And you don't get why that isn't hurtful?  You think about things with someone else.  Because I'll always just be the woman that you fuck.  What am I, not 'cerebral' enough for you David?'

'Don't say that.  Please don't say that. I couldn't talk to you because I was trying to figure out what I could do to keep you…to make you stay with me. But I think about everything too much because I just want to do the right thing and it fucks me up. I guess I just have to stop thinking and go with what I feel…and I feel like I want everyone to know how much I love you. But especially you. I want you to know how much I love you. '

He got to his feet and made two purposeful strides across the small room and kneeling next to her chair.

'Just look at me, Gillian, please.'

She twisted in her chair, her knees next to his chest and her eyes met his, his imploring hers to see the honesty and love in his gaze.  He looked at ease with himself, a confidence behind his expression, a quiet determination as if he'd decided something.  She was sure she just looked lost, mirroring how she was feeling.  Lost and hopelessly, desperately and moreover stupidly still so in love with him.

'I've gone about it in the worst way possible.  And I'm sorry.'

He thumbed a tear off her cheek that she hadn't realised had fallen, reaching for a tissue to blot her make up for her, dabbing gently at her face.

'Okay.'

It was a croak, barely a broken whisper but he knew he was getting through to her.  She took the tissue from him, her hand brushing against his and checked her face in the mirror.  Her make up was still intact and she took a blusher brush to quickly bring some colour to her cheeks.

He still knelt before her and she turned back to him, a small resigned smile crossing her lips.  He ventured a hand onto her lap and she took it in hers.  It felt so good to be able to touch him.

'You can get up if you want, I'll just be a second finishing up.'

'No... I....'

He faltered, his nerves getting the better of him.  She started to turn away from him and he squeezed her hand to stop her, their fingers tangling together.  

'There's something else.'

He cleared his throat, one hand firmly holding hers as he reached into his jacket pocket with the other. 

'David. What the...?'

He didn't allow her time to finish, but turned her hand palm upwards and placed a platinum band with a square cut diamond there.

'Marry me?'

All she could do was blink back at him, her mouth open and he was left still holding his breath.

The loud knock on the door startled them both, he flinched backwards and stood up, she closed her fingers over the ring, holding it tightly and smoothing out her dress with her other hand. 

'Gillian you're needed out front for press!'

She caught his eye, then turned to go, leaving him standing in the middle of the empty dressing room.  His heart was racing and his muscles so weak he wasn't sure he could stay upright.

He took a few deep breaths, grabbed a drink of water from the bottle on her dressing table and followed her out backstage.

The foyer was heaving, a mix of press, cameras, microphones, actors, management and fans.  He watched her move through the throngs of people with ease, one of the theatre team guiding her between interviewers.

He tried to catch up with her, and found himself being handed champagne, feeling desperately sad that it might be a little premature.  He downed the drink quickly, needing to take the edge off the knot of anxiety twirling and building inside him.

She felt his eyes watching her, tracking her around the room, never leaving her.  She stood opposite her first interviewer, carefully opened her palm and slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand. Her heart surged. She smiled at the feeling of having jewellery there and it felt so right that it had come from him.  

She realised the interviewer was speaking to her and tried her hardest to concentrate. 

'You were fantastic out there. And it must have been great to have people closest to you watching. We hear your x files costar was here tonight?'

'He was, he's around here somewhere.'

She made a show of looking around her and managed to catch his eye, the tilt of her head beckoning him over to her.

He looked back at her, her sated, happy expression and hoped he would later get the answer he was looking for. 

He weaved between people to join her and slid in beside her.  His fingers brushed against hers and she took hold of his hand, interlocking their fingers.  He squeezed her gently and felt she was wearing the ring.

'Hi David, Caroline, New York Times arts.'

'Hi.'

'David did you enjoy the performance?'

'Im actually kind of speechless, which is rare for me. Gillian was fantastic...just absolutely fantastic.  She was devastating, displaying a fragility that...that I've not seen in anyone else.  Williams would have been proud of her, as am I.'

Gillian had to look away, swiping at her face to brush away more tears.  It was then that the interviewer noticed something, looking between the two of them, a confused look crossing her face.

'I didn't think Blanche got married...or is that...yours?'

'It's...um...'

She looked up at him and smiled, the future in his eyes finally reflecting that in hers.

'Yes,' she said, her eyes never leaving his.  'Yes, it is mine.'


End file.
